Call Me Hopeless, But Not Romantic
by Miss-Rainy-Skies
Summary: He was used to the blood-boiling,vein popping anger blinding his vision. Jealousy was the most common side effect of loving her. /For the flawless Caroline.


**Call Me Hopeless, But Not Romantic**

_Summary:_ Because Austin got it, okay? His best friend/writing partner/one of the most awesome people he knows wasn't exactly atrocious to look at. He'll admit it; she's pretty easy on the eyes. But seriously, did guys have to hit on her everywhere they went? He was starting to think he couldn't take her out anywhere.

_Title based on the song by Mayday Parade._

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Austin and Ally.

* * *

_**For Caroline; the coolest girl in the fandom. You are awesome for putting up with my crap for so long. Happy birthday, bitch. I love you to smithereens.**_

* * *

Austin was starting to think the frown was going to be permanently etched upon his face.

He was just utterly, absolutely astounded by how _awful_ this guy's flirting skills were.

Here he was, trying to have a friendly outing with one of his best friends in the mall food court: when this—this dim-witted baboon happened to pull over a chair, open his mouth and start flapping about some shit he had no intention of ever hearing about, starting with the totally unnecessary suppliance of his stupid name.

After doing a quick take to Ally, he was even more horrified to see her seemingly unbothered by this act of obvious harassment. Her eyes were politely trained on… _Devin_—ugh, what kind of superficial, dime a dozen name that was.

It just about summed up his sorry excuse for a personality.

But in all seriousness, were Devin's parents part of some sort of boring names association? Did they make a bet to see who could come up with the blandest, overused—not to mention, stupid name? Did they plan their son's birth _all_ those years ago, constantly scheming and plotting, waiting to ensure Austin would get cock-blocked this particular day?

If so, they've clearly succeeded.

It certainly couldn't be good for Ally's above average intelligence to listen to this moron babble about his life story as he was currently doing, either.

He's sure his own IQ had dropped by at least five whole points in the four minutes Devin had been sitting over here talking about his phony-baloney lifelong commitment as an animal rights activist.

Yes, because The Animal Shelter Housing Center Building for Animals sounds just _so_ convincing. What. A. Load.

This ass-rag was now trying to flex his barely existent muscles—not so subtly either, might Austin add—to the clearly unsuspecting Ally. Because why else would she still be giving this guy her attention if she knew what a threat to their mental health this guy was?

Poor, innocent Ally obviously had no idea, no idea at all.

Just before Devin was about to act out another 'yawn' again, Austin stopped him by holding up a hand, his palm sticking out and eyes narrowed in unmasked annoyance.

"Okay, hate to interrupt whatever _this_ is," he gestured dryly between the two of them with a half-arched pointer finger, even going as far to rolling his eyes in an effort to prove his irritation, "but do you, like, _mind_?"

His question came out as almost an angry hiss. Definitely not the polite side mention he was so determined to carry out as part of his attempt at being the bigger person. Whatever. The guy needed to learn.

Daft Devin promptly raised a bewildered eyebrow at the blond. He looked a little insulted, but mostly confused.

"Mind what?" he dumbly asks; crinkles appearing on his forehead.

There went the sixth IQ point lost in one morning.

Austin gritted his teeth. "Do you mind _not_ interrupting me and my friend trying to have lunch?" He made emphasis on Ally being his and gave himself extra points for at least sounding somewhat civil. Not friendly, but at least not vicious either.

Ally's brows furrowed in worry, already having a pretty accurate idea of where this was going to go.

The other male simply gave an aloof shrug, not getting the hint. "Hey, man, I don't mind you interrupting what _I'm_ trying to do here."

A frosty tight-lipped grimace gave the impression that Austin could not be less uninterested in whatever Devin was about to say. He pressed on anyway, with a stifled sigh. "And what are you trying to do?"

A foul grin spread across the Butt-Wipe's face, focal point turning toward Ally once again. He looked disgustingly pleased at having this question directed at him. "I'm trying to get your number."

Ally's face paled in a matter of seconds as Devin ended his sentiment with a distasteful click of his tongue. Her colorless complexion became a sharp contrast to Austin's newly acquired raging scarlet.

Needless to say, that day didn't turn out very well.

Neither did their trips to the skating rink, or the park.

Apparently, guys nowadays have taken a liking to brainy bookworms over girls with cleavage now.

For the past few outings, these drooling slobs have been coming over to them, interrupting their possible blooming moment of intimate romance with desperate cries for attention, and jokes that were just _so_ atrocious he almost wished God would have spared these souls from rejection and kept them in solitary confinement somewhere else.

Excuse him for sounding hipster with swears on behalf of his life that he had found his dorky brunette best friend attractive _way_ before these varsity jocks even bothered to catch a second glance at her.

He was hers, dammit.

And seriously, did having a male stand so intimately close with a female mean nothing in society these days?

There was no way they haven't been mistaken for a couple at one point or another. Did all these guys just assume it was cool to hit on some other guy's girlfriend? Whatever happened to the bro code? Just because Barney Stinson was getting married, did not mean the death of a legacy, okay?

Fine, so he couldn't take her out to Lunch, or out skating, or to the park.

But you know where the next best friendly hang out place was? The movie theatre.

Yes, a nice dark movie theatre where everyone is sitting quietly as the dim lighting washed over everyone's features.

A movie theatre; where everyone is paying attention to the movie.

A movie theatre; where no half-brained, girl-crazy, hormonal boy would ever think to hit on girls.

A movie theatre; where—"Hey is someone sitting there, Miss?"

You have got to be fucking kidding him.

Ally swiftly turned her head to her right to ensure the seat next to her was indeed still empty.

"Nope," she chirped politely as she immediately retracted her feet to make shuffling room for the sudden stranger. Austin however, kept both feet firmly rooted to the ground. The frown that was already spreading across his face turned into a full-on sulk when the stranger navigating around his anchored feet revealed to have floppy brown hair.

Those types of guys were the worst kind. He'd seen firsthand the side effects that came with guys like these.

This assumption proved correct as just before the teaser trailers came on, the tall, dark stranger turned his head for the classic introduction Austin had become so accustomed to these past weeks.

"Hey, my name is Rick." He added a saucy wink at the end of his introduction, and then he flashed Ally what only the most generous of souls would call a smile.

Let the torture begin.

* * *

Halfway through the movie this brunette stranger faked a yawn—and actually, seriously, legitimately—tried to place his arm around Ally's petite shoulders.

Thank god for Austin's razor sharp senses regarding anything to do with Ally. He caught the crime right in the middle of being commenced and Austin—trying to save his friend, acting on behalf of his songwriter's sake, not for his own at all—doubled over in a violent, yet totally fake, coughing fit.

He pumped his fist into his chest repeatedly, scrunching his features up in a painful contortion. Ally didn't even notice Rick's meek attempt at romancing her as her full attention went to her blond friend who seemed to be amidst in hacking a lung out.

"Oh my gosh, Austin!" Her small hands immediately made their way to his arched back in a concerned manner. "Are you okay, are you okay?" There's a meek desperation in her voice, and he would totally feel guilty if he wasn't so goddamn proud of his Oscar worthy performance.

The singer nodded twice but continued coughing, his brown eyes tearing up with so much expulsion of air. From the corner of his eye he could see a scowl of disapproval from the flippant bastard sitting one seat over from him. Angry arms settled against Rick's chest. He suppressed the urge to smirk cheekily in response.

The blond took a break from all the coughing. "I—I think so," he managed, blinking his watery eyes. Hunching towards him, her own eyes were washed over with so much concern he could have melted. He relished the motility of her presence.

Hearing his assurance, she leaned back in her seat again; eyebrows still knit with worry. "God, you scared me." A scheming spark made its way back to the Blockhead beside her at the return of her occupancy, and Austin knew he needed to act fast again.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed overdramatically, as he collapsed into another heap of artificial coughs. This one was even more brutal than the previous one.

Panic flashed through the innocent teenage girl for a second time. "Austin, Austin!" Within seconds her comforting hands were back on him, this time on his shoulders that were shaking in time with his coughs. Her fingers gripped his plaid shirt as she dipped her head lower to survey him. "Are you sick? Have you not been feeling well?" Austin could only bring himself to shake his head at each and every one of her worried questions. "Do you want to leave?"

Hearing this question, he could only nod as enthusiastically as he could while still making violent cough noises. "Uh huh," he answered honestly, trying to put as much phlegm as he could in his voice.

"Okay, okay," she chanted, sounding frazzled as her slightly clammy hands covered his. She stood up, still gripping his hands, urging him to do the same. He followed suit, not breaking character the entire time, except to shoot a smug look to his arch enemy, whose glare was frightening enough to curdle dairy. "Come on," she called urgently, pulling him out of the row they were seated at.

Several people leaned away from the aisle as Austin and Ally headed for the exit, for fear of retaining some sort of contagious illness.

* * *

Austin's coughing had come to a prompt standstill as soon as they exited the theatre. ("Praise the lord, and his miraculous ways!" he had shouted.)

With the Miami sun beating down their backs, ice cream in hands and victory written all over a certain young man's face, the remainder of the day was sure to be a good one.

"You sure recovered quickly," Ally noted, sounding a tad suspicious but mostly just relieved.

He swung their still interlocked hands, ear splitting grin gracing his visage. "It's a sunny day," was his way of answer.

Ally scoffed, not even bothering to retract her hand from his. "We live in Miami, it's almost always sunny," she deadpanned.

He almost frowned at her sarcastic intonation, but he stopped himself. Having her here bickering with him was much better than having her back in the dim-lit theatre with some ape draping his arm around her shoulders in hopes of getting lucky.

The thought alone sickened him.

So even when Ally walked him home and began chatting animatedly with his mother about the possible sicknesses he might have attained, even when his mother dragged his ass all the way to the doctor's office for a check-up, even when the exhausted doctor wrote down a prescription for possible dehydration, he didn't regret his actions a tiny bit.

The thermos full of water his mom instructed him to dangle around his neck was pretty embarrassing, though.

* * *

"I'm in college," he heard a voice say.

He could feel his blood boiling already. Really, this was not good. This flirting thing had really gotten out of hand.

Here Austin was, trying to bring Ally some refreshments at Jimmy's latest party and what does he find?

A douchebag hitting on her. This was ridiculous.

He stifled a sigh as he pushed himself through the small crowd to where the two people were standing, careful not to spill their drinks.

He loomed protectively over her. "There you are, Ally. I've been looking for you."

The polished glare accentuated at the college stud as he promptly steered her away spoke in volumes.

* * *

Austin decided he and Ally needed to stay indoors for a while.

She had a store to watch, and he had to keep himself from going insane somehow. His mind was raging in a complete frenzy as he swung his legs back and forth over the counter of Sonic Boom.

Because Austin got it, okay? His best friend/writing partner/one of the most awesome people he knows wasn't exactly atrocious to look at. He'll admit it; she's pretty easy on the eyes.

But seriously, did guys have to hit on her _everywhere_ they went? He was starting to think he couldn't take her out anywhere.

Meanwhile, Ally was starting to get a little worried about her friend. He hadn't been acting himself lately. Most of the time, he was just bouncing off the walls with energy, constantly pestering to lock up the store early so they could go out.

Today on the other hand, he hadn't even stepped foot off the counter.

Giving up on waiting for him to speak, Ally decided to take it upon herself to make conversation and be the spontaneous one of the evening. "Do you want to go to the library?" she asked, sending a soft poke to his ribcage. It didn't relax him like she hoped it would.

An eyebrow twitched. Usually he'd decline for totally different reasons, but at the moment all he could see in his head was a crowd of dorky nerds all hounding the girl of their dreams. Not to mention the library was where Ally's first crush disappeared off to. "No."

She bit her lip. "Do you wanna go to the food court?" she tried again, eyes swirling around in thought.

Beefy, muscular guys way too high in protein flashed by in his mind. "No."

"What about the beach? I know how much you love the beach!"

Shirtless hounds checking out Ally's swim suit? Just what he needed.

"Ooh, I know! There's a concert playing just a few blocks down!" She was sure that would have perked his interests.

Instead he didn't bother asking for the name of the band. Musicians? Oh, hell to the no.

He was about to shake his head when an unfamiliar voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Hey, Miss?"

His eyes exploded back into life.

"Oh my _god_, she's not interested, okay?" He hopped off the counter to glare the subordinate male down. "Why is it that all you people just automatically assume you can walk up to her and ask for her number when she's clearly not giving out any kind of desperate vibes to attract sorry souls like you?"

The man shrunk in size under Austin's criticizing menace. "But, I—I'm just—"

"Enough!" Austin hollered, voice echoing like a boom box on an empty stage. "Run along!" He made shooing motions with his hands as the terrified guy backed away even further.

"I just wanted to know where the trumpets were!" the bloke squeaked, looking like he might wet himself in a second.

Austin straightened his back and blinked in oblivion. "Oh, they're right there." He pointed to a shelf not far from where they were standing. The unlucky guy quickly scampered off to the direction he pointed to, knocking over a flute display in all his haste.

Austin made a repulsed grunt before turning around and coming face to face with an unamused Ally.

"What was that?" she inquired dryly, arms crossed in contemplation.

He looked over to the still shaking fellow who was now attempting to browse the trumpets as if his pants hadn't just been soiled with his own piss. He wondered if he had seriously just scared away a dude for just talking to Ally. He shook his head, unable to believe himself. "Nothing, it was nothing."

Ally puckered her lips to the side, wondering how she was supposed to approach him when he was this emotional. She took a timid step closer to him, crossing her legs in the process. "Really?" she questioned. "Because it seems like you nearly ripped off a poor guy's head for asking about an instrument."

He avoided her gaze, swirling around so he was facing the counter again. His fingers picked at the jar of guitar picks in all his nervousness. "Well, you know the trumpets are right over there, I don't see why the kid couldn't just walk around for another thirty seconds and find out for himself where the freaking trumpets are," he mumbled.

She rolled her eyes in disdain. "Kid? Austin, he looks older than you."

His eyes fixated in jealously. "So you're into older men."

"Stop twisting my words around."

Damn, he really needed to learn how to bite his tongue.

"Whatever, just forget it. Forget I said anything."

But he already knew she wouldn't have just forgotten it. She never let anything go. "Austin…" she trails.

He groaned, turning around again, his hands covering his face, still refusing to look her in the eyes. He would be playing with his buttons if his hands hadn't been occupied with masking his shame.

"I'm sick of all these guys hitting on you everywhere we go."

She blinked, once, then twice. The she placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. "Austin, have you had any of your water today?" Ally asked seriously.

He ripped the thermos and its pathetic straps from his neck, jerking her hand off in the process and growled in frustration. "I'm not fucking dehydrated!"

Ally took a step back, startled, as Austin ran an aggravated hand through his blond hair, trying to calm himself down. "Okay," she conceded gently, mulling over his words, wondering if she'd heard him correctly. Her head tilted to her right in wonder, eyes sparkling in all her cluelessness. "What bothers you again?"

"These guys; they're hitting on you everywhere we go." Saying the words, he felt like all the life had been sucked out of him.

She didn't deny this fact, instead she squinted her eyes. "Why does that bother you?"

"Because we can't even hang out properly without being interrupted," he said in exasperation, balling his fists by his side.

She frowned. "That's not true."

He took a minute to look her up and down, debating whether or not it was time to tell her. Finally, he sighed loudly. "Ally, I like you," he said seriously. He didn't bother to add the 'as a friend' part, because at the moment he was already was reeking of so much desperation he would have put Ronald Weasley to shame.

But Ally completely disregarded his desperation with her next comment, waving off his much awaited, grand proclamation with an airy wave of her hand. "Well yeah, I mean I like you too, but you don't see me shooing away all your fan girls."

He resisted an eye roll, leaning down to look her face to face. "That's different, when someone is famous and in the middle of an awesome musical number, you're supposed to fawn over them." He absentmindedly flipped his hair amidst explanation. "It's like the law of the universe."

Not liking his tone, she bristled in annoyance and adjusted her stance begrudgingly. "Okay, normal girls hit on you all the time," she countered, emphasizing the word normal as best she could. She stood on her tiptoes in an effort to be intimidating. It doesn't work quite the way she hoped it would, considering he was still much taller than she was. "And they hit on you when you are _not_ performing. Do you see me caring?"

"Well, you should," he replied, unfazed.

Her comeback died in her throat as his words washed over her and he knew she finally understood what he had been talking about. Either that or she finally understood the _severity_ of his feelings. And he was pretty damn serious if he did say so himself.

Silence loomed over the two of them.

He was too proud to look away from her, yet too cowardly to say anything more. He watched the intense conflict from his eyes reflected from her eyes and unsuccessfully cursed away his anxiety. She bit her lip in apprehension and he knew he needed more of her. If she wasn't going to tell him how she felt, then dammit, he'd find out for himself.

Taking a chance; He leaned closer to her.

Her breath hitched, she looked a bit hesitant. "Austin, what are you doing," she whispered.

A curious haze occupied his line of perception. "Ally, why are you talking?" he countered. He was a little miffed she'd taken it upon herself to ruin the moment.

Granted—he loved her non-stop talking and adorable quirks, but some instances in life are meant to be quiet. He thought she out of all people would know that considering her love of silent films that he knew she secretly streamed on Netflix every night.

What he wouldn't give to spend an evening cuddled up against her lap just lounging around during one of those films.

The thought sent flutters to his spine. He exhaled quietly when she still hadn't leaned forward or acknowledged his question. "What?" His eyes glaze over hers in consternation. "Are _you_ gonna cock-block me as well?"

His resolution came in the bright laughter that rang through his ears and her arms that had found their way around his neck in the form of a reply.

"Wouldn't dream of it."


End file.
